


One.Two.Three

by InfiniteFreedom



Series: Random Moments [1]
Category: Person of Interest (TV)
Genre: F/F, Fluff and Angst, shaw trying
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-15
Updated: 2015-05-15
Packaged: 2018-03-30 16:02:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,486
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3942886
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InfiniteFreedom/pseuds/InfiniteFreedom
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Can I ask you something?"</p>
<p>Shaw's voice sounds so low, so warm to her own ears, that she knows she's screwed badly when it comes out.</p>
            </blockquote>





	One.Two.Three

**Author's Note:**

> Please note this is my first POI fanfic and that I'm emotionally unstable because of these two before you read this piece of attempted shit.
> 
> The sex scene goes well with Roads - Portishead just so you know.

"Can I ask you something?"

Shaw's voice sounds so low, so warm to her own ears, that she knows she's screwed badly when it comes out. She wants to strangle herself. It is barely a whisper, and for a moment there she wonders if she's in fact nervous about this, until her mind almost gratefully reminds her - Sameen Shaw doesn't do nervous.

Sameen Shaw doesn't do a lot of things, but she also begrudgingly does seem to shorten the list as if her life depends on it.

Which it doesn't. Which makes her want to strangle herself even more.

Yes indeed, she has shortened this list a lot recently. Past year really.

For starters, Shaw has clearly crossed off the caring part. She obviously cares, even though she doesn't like it.

Then again, she cares about people. A lot.  
Check.

She worries about them. Check.

Her mind momentarily skips all the other things that have miraculously disappeared from her list - things like genuinely smiling from time to time, putting up with Fusco's snoring at every stakeout, not grunting at Reese so much, sometimes sharing her food (when she feels very VERY generous), feels…good at the knowledge of having something akin to a family - to reach the one she knows she dreads most.

Emotional attachment. 

Her insides twist every time her mind goes over that thought, because even scientifically, even her doctor knows, it's one thing to care about someone... and another to be emotionally attached to one.  
It's something a person with Axis II personality disorder isn't supposed to pull off. 

Can't.

And Shaw isn't. Not really. She isn't emotionally attached. 

But she allows someone else to be emotionally attached to her. 

And that is a big no no as well. 

But…there, gone too, off her list, lost somewhere between games and reality, caring and not, worrying and getting angry. 

Lost somewhere underneath Shaw's fingers, that are softly - too softly - tracing lines on an equally flower like skin. She likes to do this, a habit she never imagined she'd develop. She somehow finds herself lost in the way everytime her palm strokes the familiar territory of a slender back, it leaves goosebumps on its wake. 

Her index finger roams down from the shoulder blade to her lover's - is that what they are? Is Sameen Shaw ready to admit that to herself? - lower back, with a feather light touch, and stops slightly raising her finger an inch above the skin.

One. Two. Three.  
She counts innerly and struggles to suppress a contented smile at the all too expected rise of whatever, barely noticeable, hair there was on that exact spot. 

She's propped on her elbow, resting on her side, hovering slightly over Root's relaxed body, stomach flat on the mattress, marvelous back for Shaw's pleasure, and her face is more or less pressed against the shorter woman's breast.

Ironically enough, as if Root has to feel the frantic beat Shaw's heart plays whenever she is there. 

She's beautiful, Sameen thinks, with the moon's dim light grazing her pale flesh making her look like a creature that should not exist. 

Should not be here. With her. 

The woman's eyes are closed, arms lazily lying next to her slump body, obviously tired - she fights a smirk - from their previous activities, but Shaw knows she's heard her, knows that Root, no matter how dozed off, will never ignore her initiatives. 

The fact warms her inside, but simultaneously wishes Root did ignore her.

At least this time. 

"Yeah..." her words are cool against Sameen's skin, and she can practically feel the shivers traveling down her spine. The woman's voice is even fuzzier and sheepish than usual, due to her semi-asleep state, and Shaw -though she'd never admit it out loud - kinds of likes the way it reaches her ear, a rustle of wind.

Root is looking up at her through half-lidded eyes, still not conscious enough to move, but a ghost of a smile is visible on her lips.

Shaw lets her finger follow its usual route up and down her lover's back. 

Lovers.  
She counters. 

She swallows down a lump she didn't know had formed in her throat. She isn't sure why she started this, why she let the words roll off her tongue so easily in the first place. Shaw isn't used to having conversations, save as much to having conversations about feelings, in a bed, naked, with a person she had just shared a night of unconsumed passion with, and is now being ultimately - and much to her dismay - intimate with. 

Intimacy is something she's never been good at, and yet here she is, caressing skin that she nearly has the right to call hers, and talking about something she never thought she would talk about. 

Shaw shifts her gaze to her hand uncomfortably, not ready to face the pit of emotions swirling in Root's eyes that she's certain is there. "I…"

She stops because she realizes that whatever she was about to say wasn't going to be a question. Trying to find the right words had always been a poor skill. 

"I just wonder why."

When her eyes climb back up to meet Root's, she is greeted with mild confusion.  
A frown is tugging at the woman's eyebrows, and Shaw silently curses herself for causing it. 

Her…lover…  
Her lover looks beautiful when she is peaceful, she decides.  
Her eyes are always welcoming and remind of home. Her lips are warm and fluid, as smiling comes to the hacker like a second skin. 

Her smile, Sameen mentally notes, is definitely her favorite thing about Root.

Maybe, one day, when she's too drunk to process what she's doing of course, maybe… if Root asks her she'll tell her that. 

Shaw's gentle finger - gentle, who would've thought - reaches Root's shoulder again.  
"Why." her finger starts its way downwards.

Halfway there. 

"Why are you still here?" 

Maybe 6 centimeters until she reaches the end. Maybe more. 

Root's frown deepens as her eyes open slightly more, trained on Shaw as if trying to decipher a code, figure her out.

Always trying, always staying, never giving up, working on a code Sameen Shaw doesn't know how to break herself. 

3 centimeters.

Swift movements, slow driving.

2 centimeters. 

Then 1.

She raises her finger expectedly. 

One. Two. 

A second earlier than before.

"Shaw?" her tone is familiar, known. She's asking and not asking a hundred things with the look on her eyes, giving but not taking. 

That's how it is. How it was always going to be - if Sameen Shaw has the capacity to consider always as an option, because that includes tomorrow, and she doesn't take that for granted. 

Give but not take. 

Sameen can't give, but the less she does, the more Root does, and she doesn't know how to quite deal with that. 

It all leads to a heavy, earnest sigh. 

She wishes she could say things, have that social skill she so believed till recently she didn't need. Wishes she had it.

She doesn't. 

Root is still, not a fiber of her being in function, except perhaps her lungs and heart. 

Sameen knows she's breathing by the cool stings of air hitting the spot just above her heart now and then.

She watches her hand move at its own accord at the back of Root's neck. 

"Don't you sometimes just wish you could… be with someone…normal? Someone who cares enough." she finishes and her voice is still a whisper, just above audible. 

It's a low blow, because they both know she does, but maybe she just needs to hear Root say something bad to her, something like 'Yes. I'd love to be able to hear someone tell me they actually care about me and not the dog', because then she can get angry, extra furious because she brought Bear up, and oh rage she can handle. 

Not this. Not this impending feeling of...everything and anything. 

That's just some ambition.

Root is looking at her with an odd look, and Shaw guesses she tries again, tries to discreetly break her open, see through, dig up anything Shaw has ever buried deep in there, turning up the volumes as Gen had so wisely put it once. 

She guesses she tries but fails, again and again, until there is nothing else she can try anymore, and she almost wants to snap at her, for being so Goddamn stubborn, for not stopping. Or rather, stopping.

Stopping here, where Shaw is, once so indifferently living behind the brick walls she had build for herself, that now appear to tumble down so easily at this woman's efforts. 

She wants to shout at her, scream even, 'Go! Far away from me!', because all she will get out of this is going to be a broken heart, because Sameen Shaw can't give but only take, because Sameen Shaw can never find the right words, because Sameen Shaw would never care enough. 

Because no matter how fucked up they both are, she's the one with no salvation, and her chest tightens - enough - with every smile Root flashes her direction, to know she won't take Root down with her. 

Doesn't want to. 

She can feel her own brows knit together, and she clenches her jaw angrily, the recoiled rage pointed to herself. 

But that's okay.

Because anger she can do, she repeats in her mind as a mantra, anger she will do.

Her hand goes rigid on Root's neck, before she moves to pull it back, and looks away, far far away, from those honey colored eyes boring meters deep into her soul. 

Then the brunette senses it, and she's grasping Shaw's wrist tightly, forcing her to stay put, forcing her to stop, and - why doesn't she get it Goddamn it? Shaw's too heavy, Sameen Shaw carries so much from what she takes and never gives, and she will take Root down with her if the woman doesn't let her go down now. 

Her lover. Her lover is suddenly so aware of this, of how Shaw will never be what she wants, of how Shaw will never be the code she needs to break. And Sameen needs to get out, go down, stay away. 

She needs to not see this, the expression on Root's face that's screaming back for her to stay, that she is enough, and - God Shaw wants to believe her, but it's just games, means of persuasion, she thinks.

"Sam." she whispers and Shaw can no longer feel the words cold on her skin, can no longer be sure Root is actually breathing, and there would be times she didn't care, but now she just wants to reach out and feel it, feel her, but she can't because she'll be taking again. 

Her eyes stay hard on the hand gripping her wrist.

She can get out of it easily, and she will do just that, she swears it's what she's planning to do any second now. 

Any second. 

Now. Now she's going to-

"Sameen." Root's choice of name is purposeful, Shaw knows, it's efficient, and Sameen almost grunts at not knowing if Root is breathing or not. 

Her eyes drift to her lover's. 

"Root, I-"

"Don't." she raises and and doesn't let go, neither Shaw's hand nor her gaze, and Shaw knows she's realized what she's trying to do, and she also knows that it's all bullshit. "Don't do that. Don't pretend like you don't know how I feel about you Shaw." she says and her voice sounds broken, Shaw thinks, sounds weak and hurt, and Shaw hates it, all of it. 

And that's what she's been trying to avoid, what she knows is there, lurking in the shadows, catching up with her as time passes by. She hates herself for starting this, this conversation, all the way back to this…thing. 

Lovers.

Shaw hates the way she loves the sound of it. 

She hates the way she can't stand the sorrowful glint in Root's eyes, the insecurity there, the fragility, and she knows Root hates it too, which in return makes her hate it even more. 

Because Root is human, and she deserves to be able to feel that, and Shaw hates how Root doesn't comprehend that.

She hates it hates it hates it hates it.

And hate is not anger, it's pain, and Shaw doesn't do pain, and this is so not okay. 

She's going away again, she averts her gaze, and clenches her jaw once more, and bites her lip, until it splits open, until she can feel the metallic taste of blood on her tongue, plain and okay. 

I hate you. 

She doesn't get to say the words as Root's lips collide with her own, and nothing seems to matter anymore. 

Root is molding, she's melting in Shaw's lips, her tongue everywhere and anywhere, her hands tugging on her hair with intention to hurt. 

Her body is flushed against hers as they are sitting up in the middle of the bed, and her long legs are hooked around Shaw's waist, keeping her there, and she lets her. 

She lets her go down with her. 

Root is nothing near gentle when she travels down with her mouth, biting and sucking at Sameen's flesh ferociously. 

Shaw tries not to make a sound, tries not to growl at the animalistic way Root pushes her back down to the bed and imprisons her hands on above her head. 

She's being rough, and Shaw knows it's almost a punishment. 

For doubting.  
For thinking. 

Root pinches her nipples hard as her tongue is tasting her stomach. She goes back up again, and devours Shaw's breasts, cupping one and treating the other with her skilled tongue, then giving the same attention to the other. 

Shaw grunts, and archs upwards managing to escape Root's tight hold. With an uncontrollable lust she grabs the woman's head and pulls her up to her mouth again, tongues dancing a wild tango, none of the two ready to give it up to the other. 

It's Sameen that breaks the kiss as three fingers are pushed roughly inside of her.

She can't prevent the growl coming deep from her gut, through her throat, out her mouth, in Root's ear.

But her lover is unfazed, unaffected, keeps grinding her hips against Shaw's with an increasing pace, her fingers moving in and out in a way they never have before. 

She can feel it building up inside her, with every sound of skin hitting skin, with every thrust Root makes, with every time Root's own breasts brush against hers momentarily. 

She can feel it burn her blood, making it explode inside, the way only this infuriatingly complex woman can set her bomb off. 

She tries to keep the sounds in her gut, but that is barely possible as Root is licking her pulse point, all the while flicking her thumb over Shaw's clit and curling her fingers inside expertly. 

Shaw wants to blow up, and she swears she will, but something is missing, something that doesn't allow her this. 

And apparently Root senses it too, because she thrusts harder, savagely even, and looks Shaw in the eye. 

They're moving in sync, at a frantic pace, and Root leans further closer, their lips brushing. Shaw wants to lean up, grab her and kiss those incredibly red lips, but her mind is a blur, a cloud, and she can't even open her eyes. 

Yet she just can't let go. 

Root has four fingers in, and at that point, Sameen Shaw moans.  
"What do you want Shaw?" her lover asks in her mouth, and throughout what's left of common sense in Shaw, she can recognize a crack in the voice.

She's too distracted by the fucking that goes on to register the actual question. 

She wants the release, desperately needs it, but she's holding back. 

Root thrusts sloppily, missing her sweet spot, and Shaw swallows down her gasp but opens her eyes wide. 

From the look in the hacker's eyes, that's what she wanted. The grinding doesn't stop. Shaw doesn't come. 

"Do you want me to fucking spell it to you Sameen?" the cursing is a Goddamn turn on, and she struggles not to bite her lip. 

But then Root picks the rhythm up, so much, and again her lips are hovering above Shaw's. 

It is the salt.

The salt makes Sameen open her eyes again, just in time to see a lonely tear make its way down Root's cheek. 

"I. Love. You."

A deep thrust, a flick of the thumb, a hard kiss, a moan in her mouth, Root's convulsing body. 

Shaw is coming. And she comes hard. 

Her eyes roll back, her back archs upwards, her toes curl, and she bites her lip so hard, it's taking all of her power not to scream. 

The words are there, hanging between them, floating in the air around Root's fingers as she slows down her movements, leading Shaw through another, significantly smaller orgasm, which she passes with silence and collectivity, only her hands slightly clenching the sheets. 

Root is still on top of her, breathing heavily in Shaw's mouth, her eyes dead on hers. 

Shaw doesn't move, doesn't speak, doesn't breathe. 

She knows they have fallen so down, knows there's no turning back for any of them after what she said. 

After what the infuriatingly complex woman said.

She wishes it was just the heat of the moment, a trick to make Shaw lose it, perhaps another flirty game.

But it wasn't, and Shaw has known it for a while now. And she hates those words, because it's not something she can shoot, or patch up, or drink, or pet.

It's a feeling, and Sameen Shaw doesn't do feelings. 

Or didn't do. 

The fucking present turning to past is what's killing her. 

Didn't care.  
Didn't feel.  
Didn't reciprocate. 

She fucking HATES it.

Root has stilled. 

Moments of silence. 

She kisses Shaw so softly, so tenderly then, their eyes never once breaking contact.  
She kisses her repeatedly, every time stopping above Shaw's lips and staying there a little while longer. 

Until she doesn't kiss her again. 

Root hides her face in the crook of Shaw's face, her whole weight covering Sameen's body. 

It's all just too much, and Shaw can't figure out why her chest is tightening so bad. 

She had expected this. She knew it would come eventually, the point where Root admits just how far her feelings stretch. 

But Shaw does not know how far her own feelings stretch. How can she handle Root's? 

How can she handle the way Root smiles at her heart warmingly, or the sound of her voice when she whispers her name during the night, or the kisses, or the flirting bordering on sincere care and affection? 

It all becomes more difficult as Shaw feels a wet spot where Root is resting her head. 

She knows Root is burying it down, drowning in her own hell within her.

She's doing it because she knows Shaw, knows that she can't say those three words back. 

But Sameen can't see her like this, because her heart clenches unpleasantly. 

Gently cupping Root's cheeks, she pulls her out of her hiding place, and brings her face in front of hers so that they're looking at each other. 

Though Root ain't looking. She has her eyes pressed closed, attempting to keep the tears in. 

"Hey." Shaw says with a hoarse voice. Great.

"I'm sorry." she continues honestly, because she is the one who started this anyway, "Stop that."

It's not so much that she says it softly, but the fact that she's caressing the tears away, that makes Root open her eyes weakly and meet Shaw's. 

They're just staring at each other, hoping their eyes tell the things their mouths can't.  
Shaw has never seen so much emotion directed toward her, so much…love.

It's love, and the fact she can tell, makes for progress. She smiles softly.

She leans up and captures Root's lips with an equally soft manner, wraps her arms around her back and pulls her down, relishing in the warmth produced. 

They kiss simply, like that, neither wanting to break the endless trance to have seemingly taken over them, however both knowing things shall be different tomorrow.

They pull apart together. 

The tear stains are still visible underneath Root's eyes.

"Just sleep okay? I'll be here in the morning." she whispers, and already knows she can't escape the contact Root makes as she once again settles in Shaw's neck, her limbs tangled with her own. 

It's warm, and Shaw doesn't unwrap her hands from the embrace she had on her lover. 

Minutes later, when she's sure Root has fallen asleep, she lets her finger take a path down Root's back. 

She reaches the bottom. She raises her finger. 

One. Two. Three. 

She smiles.

Sameen Shaw doesn't care what happens tomorrow. 

→→→

FIN.


End file.
